


Like a Flower in Bloom

by vaderina



Series: Prompt Fills [5]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Cuddle Puddles, Fluff, Gentle get together, M/M, Percival is happy, then he gets happier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 22:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11861301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: Percival's life is structured with a rhythm and order to it that he doesn't have a need to deviate from. It might not be considered exciting or even fun by most people but he's happy the way he is. Then along comes Newt with his case full of creatures and brings colour into his life in a way he never thought he'd wanted or needed.





	Like a Flower in Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read.  
> Characters do not belong to me - only the typos and mistakes.
> 
> For anon on tumblr who asked for :  
> Psst... Percival Graves as a closeted snuggle lover and Newt finds out from Dougle because Dougle like cuddles as well and soon there are snuggle parties in the case and all the creatures and Newt love it *gives you the offering of a pig cause I don't kill cows* *runs away to hide*

Every morning Percival would rise when his alarm clock rang shrilly at 5am. He’d sit up, switch it off and get out of bed. He’d stretch briefly then turn to make his bed with army precision before heading into the kitchen for a quick breakfast – toast with some jam, a hot cup of coffee and a quick glance over the morning newspapers. Over the course of the years he’d mastered the useless skill of reading several of them at once to be more efficient with his time. Breakfast done with, he’d get changed into workout clothes and go for a run before finishing off with a few more exercises at home. By then it would be 7am and he’d go for a shower, a quick and cold thing, warm water was a luxury he just didn’t indulge in, saw no point it wasting such a precious resource when cold water worked just as well. After a shower he’d do a few more cooling down stretches before dressing and getting to work for 8am sharp. Being a soldier in the Great War had taught him efficiency, order and the need to get things done. His whole life was centred around appearance, presentation and regime. Even as a child he was expected to be prim and proper at functions, a child to be seen not heard. There was no room in his life for a luxury, only a sense of duty and accomplishment. He held no pride in his arrests, no joy in his role deciding people’s fates. It was his job, his duty and what was expected of him and he’d do it to the best of his abilities for as long as he could continue.

Others' lives never really interested Percival, they lived how they wanted but he had his own standards to live up to. At work he was polite, to the point and sometimes ruthless but it got results. His department was achieving record level efficiency, they were treated fairly, rarely overworked. Perhaps Percival did pride himself a little in the fact that he was able to look after his subordinates and notice who needed a break, who could be pushed and who needed to be reprimanded for their sloth. But mostly he put it down to steady and reliable leadership, he tried to set an example and hoped that most people would fall in line.

It was almost the norm for Percival to work long hours, nobody questioned him when they left and the light in his office was still on. Other than the night staff nobody knew just how late into the night he stayed, depending on the case and his workload. He always went home, he had rules against sleeping in his office but that didn’t mean he left at a sociable hour. After all, there was nothing to go home for other than a bed and sleep. So that’s all he did, he’d work for as long as he could or until he was done, return home, get ready for bed and sleep. At 5am the next day his alarm would ring and his cycle would start all over again. At the weekends he’d take files home with him and quietly work at the dining table in the corner of the kitchen. For most of the two days the only noise would be the scratch of his quill on paper and the clink as he dipped it into an inkwell for more ink.

He was happy with his existence, he didn’t know what other people did. Some nights as he walked home he’d see people in bars, spilling out of clubs roaring drunk and he’d wonder what they got out of it. People weren’t so much a mystery to him, more of a foreign concept. Nobody ever wanted to be friends with him unless it would elevate their station in society and he had no desire to play such games. All he wanted was to work and be the best he could be.

So when Newt turned up in a whirlwind of colour, a strange mix of apparent shyness with an underlying current of dangerous cunning Percival did what he always had. Run through the department’s policies, his usual welcoming speech and cut him loose to be someone else’s problem. The aurors on the whole were good at welcoming new members of staff, of guiding them through their first weeks. It wasn’t his responsibility and as long as they fell into place with relative ease and pace Percival was happy to leave them be. However Newt was different. There was an energy about him that pulled people along with his hare-brained shenanigans. Things worked out around him but never by the book as Percival had come to expect from his subordinates. It wasn’t anything he could write them up for, or even issue a verbal warning for but it still grated. On top of it Newt would just drop by at random times for a chat. Usually he had questions for him but they were the kind that anybody in the department could have answered for him, he didn’t need the Director to answer such inane questions. Despite his grumblings Percival found he overall didn’t actually mind Newt’s presence in his office. It was an almost welcome distraction at times. Part of him wondered if this was what having a friend was like before he dismissed the idea. He was Newt’s boss in a roundabout way, probably third boss up the chain but still. Newt probably just wanted to make a good impression and nothing else. People like Percival didn’t get the luxurious distraction of friends. He didn’t need them either, he was happy in his own solitude.

The thing with Newt didn’t quiet down and Percival slowly came to look forward to the little interruptions to his day. There were coffee breaks which he’d never before indulged in and quick exchanges of pleasantries in the corridors if the ever passed each other. Lunchtime was occasionally spent swapping tales of their travels rather than a sandwich in one hand and a report in the other. It was one such pleasant lunch with Newt for company when out of the blue Newt spoke.

“I was in the war too you know.” The bite of sandwich turned bitter in Percival’s mouth and he fought to swallow it down despite the rising bile. He never talked of the war and his part in it. Never wanted to think of the friends he had lost there, the reason why he found making friends so hard now. He’d been relatively young in the war, not the youngest by any means but still impressionable. The impressions the war had left behind weren’t the ones he’d expected of great heroic deeds and a cheered welcome home. No, they were the memories of fear, the stench of death and screamed begs to make the agony stop. Of friends who fell next to him not to rise again or even worse beg him to end their misery with mangled jaws and broken bodies. To become close to someone in the war meant to have repeated heartache when they didn’t return and to keep an ever growing collection of dog tags on the chain around his neck. It got to the point that Percival almost lost his own identity to the number of people he’d wished to keep alive by carrying the final bit of them around his neck.

“I just want you to know that I understand.” Newt’s soft voice drew him out of his spiral of memories. He couldn’t say anything to that, just nodded mutely and shoved another bite of the sandwich in his mouth. There was nothing to say, he mused. They were both survivors of horrors untold which didn’t bear repeating. Moving on didn’t mean forgetting, it meant not dwelling on things they couldn’t change.

Not long after that one evening Newt asked him to dinner. It was phrased so delicately Percival almost missed the implications. He almost said no out of habit. He didn’t want a friendship, he didn’t want anything other than to live his own life. Yet somehow he found himself agreeing. Newt’s pleased little hum at his eventual acceptance soothed any worried he may have had – there was no gloating of being the one to perhaps ensnare the Director for a date, no cruel laughter at the culmination of a long joke where his heart was the punchline. Instead, as promised Newt accompanied him to the most pleasant dinner he could remember having in a long while. They didn’t need to speak much, their silence a comfort rather than awkward. When they bid each other good night Newt smiled sweetly and reassured him he’d had a good time. Percival returned the sentiment though it sounded wooden to his own ears. It didn’t seem to deter Newt.

A week later Percival found himself wanting to return the favour, he inexplicably found himself summoning Newt to his office, where on company time he asked about a very personal matter. It was wholly unprofessional but ever so satisfying, he’d done something that broke the comfort of his routine and sent a thrill down his spine at breaking his usual code of conduct. The fact that Newt accepted his offer without hesitation was a bonus. Like the previous date, they were more quiet than most would have figured two people on an early date to be. Percival wondered a little when they’d ended up so comfortable with each other that it didn’t matter. That night he walked Newt home and was given a peck on the cheek for his efforts. If he hadn’t been so quietly ecstatic he might have cared about the dusting of a pink blush that bloomed across his cheeks – another first in a long time.

The first time he invited Newt home for a cooked meal was nerve wracking. In the morning before he left work he made sure everything was tidied away, straightened up the chairs against the table, tucked his crease free sheets on his bed tightly away and swept away even a hint of dust from the shelf which housed his books of statutes. Admittedly he didn’t usually read them at home but it was worth having a copy there as well as his office. That evening he showed Newt in who took a moment to look round his living room. A quick tour of his home and Newt looked torn between a weary sadness and worry, it wasn’t a good look on him but Percival chose to ignore it.

Looking round Percival’s home left Newt feeling hollow. Everything was minimalistic, militaristically bare and devoid of the creature comforts he’d surrounded himself with after all he’d gone through. It was like walking through an officer’s barracks or an office. The more he thought of it the more he realised that Percival’s office wasn’t as barren as it was because of regulations but because the man didn’t fill it with personal knickknacks. The tightly made bed with crisp sheets, the set of almost uniform clothes hung precisely in the wardrobe, Newt would have bet that even his union suits were neatly folded in the drawer, tucked away in an ordered line. Everything was devoid of colour, blacks, whites and greys. The next time Newt invited Percival into his case to perhaps show the man that there was a world of colour to be had.

They’d agreed that Newt would take his case to Percival’s home and they’d go down there together in the evening. It was Percival’s first time in the case and the man was certainly taken aback by everything he saw. The myriad of creatures the swarmed the case were overwhelming in their cacophony. Newt simply smiled at him, took his hand and led him through making introductions as he went. Their dinner was a simple affair of food Newt had cooked a little earlier while Percival finished up the case he was working on. Dougal had decided to join them and sat by Percival’s feet, an arm slung around his calf in a cuddle. Once Percival got over the initial discomfort of an invisible weight against his leg it was quite nice. A warmth that seeped into his very core and helped loosen something in him which he never realised had coiled so tight over the years.

At the end, when Newt needed to return home they left the case, Percival in front and Dougal mournfully staring up at them. Newt clutched a little potted plant of exquisite colours which he put on Percival’s table.

“A little something to bring a bit of colour into your day.” Newt had shrugged and Percival straightened the pot so the sides ran parallel to the table’s. He missed the fond smile Newt shot him as he aligned the plant. It wasn’t something he’d have picked out for himself, it felt superfluous and something that needed care and attention. Yet every time he glanced at it he felt a glow, it reminded him of Newt and the fact that the other man cared enough to give him something he’d grown from a seed in his own case. So the plant stayed on his table, he watered it every morning, drew the curtain so light would reach it during late afternoon when the sun wasn’t too hot anymore and watched the plant flourish and bloom. His trips into Newt’s suitcase became more frequent, on occasions at lunchtime they’d go down together and eat in the peaceful racket of creatures around them. Dougal would usually find them and latch onto Percival. If they were sat on the ground the demiguise would push under his arm until Percival relented and put an arm round slender furry shoulders but if they were seated on chairs Dougal slowly rose from clutching his leg to sitting on his lap. Newt never commented on their lunch companion and instead just smiled enigmatically before offering them both some fruit and then taking some for himself.

The more time Newt spent at his home the more chaos was introduced. The first night Newt slept over Percival had turned his alarm off at 5am and much to his surprise cuddled  back to Newt under the blanket. He almost ran late to work that morning and found his cup and plate from breakfast in the sink that evening. Over time Newt trusted him with his case and on days would even leave it with him when he knew he’d be too busy to look after it or was going somewhere his case wasn’t welcome. It was the fourth lunchtime that week Percival spent alone with the case while Newt consulted in the field. Surreptitiously at lunchtime Percival cracked the case open and crept down. He wasn’t doing anything wrong as such, Newt had often told him to make himself at home in there, but not once before had Percival taken him up on the offer. Yet there he was, standing in the shack with his packed lunch in one hand, uncertain of just what he was doing. The air shimmered in front of him and Dougal reached for his hand. Together they walked out into the sunlight of the case and settled on a little mound where Percival shared his lunch with the demiguise.

His bed was no longer crease free. It was in fact a different bed as Newt had convinced him that the small almost cot he’d had for years was too small for two grown men to sleep in, let along do anything more intimate. They found out that like everything else Percival fucked like he lived. It was meticulous, thorough and steady. Like a metronome Newt had giggled mildly tipsy once, sated from their earlier activities. That’s how they discovered that Percival never really explored much in the ways of the bedroom before. He’d fucked to relieve pressure on occasion but it was nothing more than a night of almost required pleasure, pleasant but meaningless in the grand scheme of things. So Newt had taken it on himself to find different ways of showing Percival how someone can be thoroughly taken apart and also dismantle someone else in return. After one such adventurous night was the first time Percival almost fell asleep at work while Newt drank potions to try and hide his mild limp.

Quiet lunches in the case were almost the norm by that point even without Newt. When Percival was by himself it wasn’t just Dougal who came up to him for a cuddle. Various creatures would join them for as long as they wanted to and there’s be a constant ebb and flow of beasts who sought out scratches, tickles and just some company. Life at home became more varied too. Pictures went up on Percival’s wall, his alarm was turned off with a grumble more often than not and getting ready for work was an affair filled with innuendo, groping and filthy promises between even dirtier kisses. Percival was no longer the first in the office at 8am sharp, neither was he the last to leave. His house had become a home more than anything else had ever been one for him before. There was a warmth to it and it had nothing to do with turning the heating up or enjoying longer showers under the scalding hot water Newt always set the temperature to.

It was towards the end of a tiring week when Percival was once again left with instructions to look after Newt’s case while he was out. Lunchtime rolled around and Percival meandered down the steps into the shack where Dougal was already waiting for him. Hand in hand they wandered out onto a grassy knoll and settled down, Percival passing him the sliced apples and melon pieces he’d taken to packing in his lunch just for the demiguise. Their usual crowd of cuddlers approached and settled quietly around them in a peaceful heap and Percival closed his eyes in quiet contentment.

“Room for one more?” Newt’s voice jolted him out of his quiet basking. Percival turned and smiled sheepishly before Dougal got up from his lap and led Newt into the centre of the pile. Gracefully Newt sank down into Percival’s lap and stole a kiss.

“Always room for you.” Percival rumbled. “Didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“Cut things short when it turned out a creature wasn’t involved so I wasn’t needed.” Newt shrugged languidly. “Didn’t think I’d find you down here quite like this though.”

“Well, you asked me to take care of your case so I did.”

“And it took care of you too by the looks of things.” Newt laughed gently. Percival hummed then nodded.

“That it did. That it did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come prod me on tumblr - I'm @ladyoftheshrimp


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